Frāter Draco
by Tawnykit
Summary: Brotherly fluff and sibling cuteness abound! A collection of drabbles revolving around the Kaiba brothers.
1. Nightmare

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Haven't even seen an episode in weeks. Am feeling deprived.

A/N: Fluffy drabble. What can I say, I was bored, it was too late to start anything else, and I felt like posting something. Oh, and get your minds out of the gutter, people. They're brothers, for crying out loud!

* * *

**Title:** Nightmare  
**Teaser:** Mokuba comes to Seto for comfort after a nightmare.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 144 words

* * *

He wasn't sure what time it was when the small boy crawled in besides him. He could have checked the clock, of course, but he was much more concerned with finding out what had woken his brother. 

"Kid?"

There was a shuddering breath. "S-Seto? C-Can I s-sleep with you tonight?"

"Bad dream?"

He felt the long-haired head nod. "It was dark. And cold…"

Sympathy stabbed at him. Neither of them had ever really recovered from having their souls torn out of their bodies, stored in a place filled with nothing but darkness and a terrible, biting cold that chilled the bones they no longer had.

He wrapped his arm around the boy. "It's okay, kid. You're not alone anymore. I'm here. I'll protect you."

His brother snuggled closer. "Thanks, Seto."

"You're welcome, Mokuba."

"Good night, big brother."

"Good night, kid. Have a good sleep."


	2. Locket

Disclaimer: If I owned _Yu Gi Oh!_, why would I be wasting my time with fanfiction? Wouldn't I just make it cannon, instead?

A/N: Thought I'd try my hand at writing in present tense. Never done that before.

Again, keep your minds out of the gutter. They are just brothers!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Title:** Locket  
**Teaser:** Mokuba has lost something very important.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 970 words

* * *

"Where is it?" The frantic voice of the twelve-year-old boy sounds through the mansion, panic-ridden tones filled with desperation. 

The voice originates in the bedroom of one Mokuba Kaiba, who is currently tearing said room apart in an effort to find his cherished possession.

"It's got to be around here somewhere!" he attempts to reassure himself, though his heartbeat doesn't slow, nor does his panic die down.

He ducks down to look under his bed, crawling under it and rummaging through the dust in search. There are a lot of things down there –several video games, a few chess pieces, a candy wrapper – but none of them are the object of his desire.

He hurriedly backs out of from under the bed, coming up a bit too soon and hitting his head on the low "ceiling." He drops to the floor, hands clasped over the small bump that is beginning to form there, and moans. He inches the rest of the way out, and sits up, rubbing his head.

He doesn't let his injury slow him down for long, though. He stands up, school uniform covered in dust, and sprints over to his desk. He begins to pulls out drawers and hastily search through their contents, emptying them onto the floor in his hurry. He is nearing hysterics now.

When the last drawer has been pulled out and the last pencil lies sprawled around him, Mokuba finally gives up. Hanging his head, fighting back tears, he shuffles over to his bed, flopping down on top of it and burying his head in his pillow. The tears come now, and he lets them. He is a failure; how can his brother ever forgive him after this terrible wrong?

There is a knock on his door. Mokuba sits up, fear coursing through him. "Oh no!" he breathes. "Seto!"

"Mokuba? Are you ready for school?" The door swings open, and a tall figure clad in a school uniform, instead of the usual trench coat, steps into the room. He stares in shock at the destruction around him – at the toys, books, pencils, and more that are now strewn crazily on the floor as a result of the raven-haired boy's frenzied searches – and turns in disbelief to his little brother. Crystal blue eyes take in the tearstains on his face, the dust that stains his usually pristine uniform, the added scruffiness to the already unruly hair, and he finally finds his voice.

"Mokuba? What happened here?"

Mokuba can stand it no longer. He throws himself at the older boy, sobbing his heart out. His brother puts a comforting arm around his shoulders, cocking his head in puzzlement.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, Seto, it's terrible! I lost it! I searched forever and ever, I looked so hard, but I can't find it and it's gone!" he manages to choke out.

"What's gone?" Seto asks, still not understanding.

"_It_ is!" is his answer, which is, of course, no use to the young CEO.

"Mokuba, I don't–" his bites off what he was going to say, understanding dawning in his eyes. He steps away from his young brother, keeping one hand on his shoulder and bending slightly so that he was on the same level as the shorter boy. His other hand he puts into his pocket and pulls something out.

"Mokuba, is _this_ what you were looking for?" His palm opens to reveal what appears to be a small Duel Monsters card, hung on a chain big enough to fit around the twelve-year-old's neck.

Mokuba immediately brightens, his tears stopping. A big grin grows on his face. "My locket!" he shouts, his hand reaching for it. It is given to him, and he holds it up, as if to be sure that no harm had come to it. He opens it; inside is an old picture, a memory of long ago. A much-younger form of his brother beams out at him, looking slightly surprised, as if he had not expected to have his image caught on film. He can see an identical locket hung around his brother's neck, though he knows that it holds a picture of himself, instead.

Satisfied that no harm has come to his treasure, he snaps the locket shut and hangs it around his neck, so that the card rests over his heart. He looks up at Seto, beaming a smile to rival the one in the picture. "Where did you find it?"

"One of the maids found it in your pants pocket when she went to do the wash this morning. You're very lucky she did, little brother; I don't know how it would have liked going through the washing machine. Or the dryer."

Mokuba nods, his heart skipping a beat as he thinks of what could have happened. "I remember, now. I was working on an art project last night. I didn't want to risk it getting covered in paint, so I put it in my pocket. I guess I forgot I put it there." He hangs his head in shame. "I'm sorry, big brother."

Seto ruffles the hair on his head. "It's all right, kid. No harm done. Just be careful. You don't want to lose it, do you?"

Mokuba shakes his head emphatically. "No, sir! It won't happen again, I promise!"

"I know it won't." Seto looks at his watch, then at his brother's appearance. "Get cleaned up. Change your uniform; they won't let you into school looking like that. We can still make it, if you hurry."

"Okay, Seto!" Mokuba spins around, shrugging off his jacket as he heads to the bathroom that is annexed to his room. He stops halfway there, and turns back to the older boy, one arm still in his jacket. "Seto?"

"Yes, Mokuba?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Mokuba."


	3. Don't Cry for Them

Disclaimer: The usual deal: Characters aren't mine, places aren't mine, don't sue me. Story is mine, you steal it and _I_ will steal your soul. ¿Comprende?

A/N: I appear to be keeping a theme of using different writing styles with every entry. Don't know how long I can keep that up, but here's something else I've never done before:

* * *

**Title:** Don't Cry for Them  
**Teaser:** It is time for Mokuba to confront a guilt that has been weighing him down for a long time.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Length: **401 words

* * *

"Big brother?" 

"Yes, Mokuba?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's wrong?"

"…What were they like?"

"…What were who like?"

"You know. Them. Our parents."

"…Why do you want to know?"

"I… Please? It's important."

"…"

"Seto? Are you okay?"

"…I'm fine."

"You don't have to tell me, if it…"

"If it what?"

"If it hurts too much."

"…No, Mokuba. It's all right. You deserve to know. They're your parents, too."

"So what were they like?"

"They were… the best parents any kid could want. They were always there for you, no matter what happened. They would stay by your side when you were sick, pick you up when you fell down, cheer you up when you were sad. They shared your joys, and gave everything they had to keep you happy. And, Mokuba?"

"…Yeah?"

"If they were still here… They wouldn't want you to cry anymore. They wouldn't want you to cry for them."

"But it's my fault."

"What do you mean?"

"If I wasn't born, then Mom wouldn't have died. If she hadn't died, maybe Dad wouldn't have, either."

"Don't talk like that. There was nothing you could have done to save her. And as for Dad… Mokuba, that was an accident."

"Do you really believe that?"

"…No. He was never the same after she died. In reality, he died when she did. It just took him a few years to catch up. I wouldn't be at all surprised if that accident was… not an accident."

"So he's my fault, too."

"You didn't ask to be born."

"But it would have been better if I hadn't been."

"No, Mokuba, no."

"But–"

"No. It's not your fault. I never blamed you. Not even Dad ever blamed you. There was nothing to blame. What happened, happened. Don't blame yourself. Here – wipe your tears."

"…Thanks, Seto."

"No problem, kid."

"…"

"…"

"Hey, big brother?"

"Mmm?"

"You know what you were saying? About how they were always there for you, and always helped you, and everything else?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I think I know someone else who's like that."

"…"

"Thank you, big brother."

"…Thank _you_, Mokuba."

"…"

"…"

"Well, I've got some homework I need to go finish. But thanks for talking with me, big brother. It... it meant a lot."

"Of course. I'm… I'm glad you asked."

"See ya later, Seto!"

"Mokuba, don't slam the…! Never mind… Hmph."


	4. Promise to Keep

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but with all the drabbles I'm cranking out, I'm starting to feel like I am.

A/N: So far, we've done past tense, present tense, and all dialogue. How about… First person?

* * *

**Title:** Promise to Keep**  
Teaser:** Because everyone has promises to keep.**  
Rating:** K+**  
Length:** 692 words

* * *

A long time ago, I made a promise. First, to the dying form of my mother, lying in a white hospital bed, with medics bustling around her in a vain attempt to keep her with us, and then again to the small, pathetic life that, unintentionally but inevitably, took her away from us. 

I never blamed my brother for what would in the end shatter my life. I would keep my promise. I would endure the pain and sorrow her death had caused. I would continue to stay true to my word while my father, who had once been so strong, let his own grief overcome him. After he finally gave in, I would fight – literally, at times – with everything I had to keep that precious life safe.

I would make sacrifices, some of which he will never know. How many couples had come to the orphanage, looking for a child, and found that I had captured their eye? The idea of adopting a genius was very tempting to many. How many times did I give up potential happiness, even bliss, so that I could continue to protect him?

I never attended a public school as a child, unless you count kindergarten. You shouldn't, really; I never learned a thing in kindergarten. Everything they had to teach I had already learned. But kindergarten was as far as I made it, until recently.

That was fairly minor, as sacrifices go. Though it took a lot of extra work on my part, I managed to teach myself enough that I could keep up with my peers. And now, thanks to Gozaburo, I am very much ahead of them.

Gozaburo. The chess match. The biggest sacrifice of all. It was both my greatest achievement and the biggest mistake I would ever make. I saw a way out, and I thought it would lead to the happiness I had so long been denied. Perhaps it did, in the end, but it sure as hell took its time in coming.

My brother will never fully know of the torment I suffered at that man's hand. He knows the gist: I was allowed no life, no break, no way to reclaim the childhood that I had been denied, but he doesn't know nearly enough. I've never shown him the scars I carry, scars that I willingly took so that he could be safe.

I suppose I could have gone to Social Services. They would have arrested my adopted "father" and sent us back to the orphanage. We would have been safe. Perhaps I should have done that. But my pride wouldn't stand for it. I would never give in.

And in the end, I won the last match of the game we'd been playing for years. He may have had the last word, but I fail to see how ending your life in a shatter of broken glass, ending up as a meaningless smear on the sidewalk below, wins you the game.

Even in Noa's virtual world, where Gozaburo planned to have his revenge, I came out on top, in the end. We escaped alive, didn't we? His worthless memory was erased from existence, wasn't it? That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. Maybe someday I'll even believe it.

I'll admit it now, and don't expect me to ever do so again: his coming back from the supposed grave haunts me to this day.

But I digress.

It is fitting that my name means _turmoil_, is it not? I had gone through more of it by the time I was ten years old than most people will in their entire lifetime, and it was hardly done with me at that point.

The root of that turmoil stems from the death of my parents, which in turn stems from the birth of my brother. Some people might be bitter towards him, in such a case. I am not. I _can_ not.

And as I look at him now, oblivious to all the pain, all the sacrifices, all the turmoil, I know that I would not have it any other way.

I do, after all, have a promise to keep.


	5. Minesweeper

Disclaimer: Don't own it. (sticks out tongue)

A/N: Everyone knows this, so I don't know why I'm bothering, but just in case, "Nii-sama" is what Mokuba calls Seto in the Japanese version. It's a respectful way of saying "big brother."

And I know I've been doing different forms of writing styles, but I never said it was a rule, did I? No, I did not. Anyway, this only works in dialogue form…

* * *

**Title:** Minesweeper  
**Teaser:** Caught in the act…  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 52 words

* * *

"Nii-sama?" 

"Mokuba? What are you still doing up? It's past midnight."

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"…I'm busy, Mokuba."

"Working?"

"…Yes."

"Can I help?"

"No."

"Can I _see_?"

"No."

"Seto, I'm the vice president, I think I'm allowed to…"

"…"

"…Seto?"

"…Yes, Mokuba?"

"Nii-sama… You're playing minesweeper."

"…Goodnight, Mokuba."

* * *

A/N: …That was… odd... 


	6. For the Hour is Late

Disclaimer: No! I _refuse_ to say that I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_!

* * *

**Title:** For the Hour is Late  
**Teaser:** The citizens of Domino prepare for a new day by recharging themselves at night. At least, most of them do.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 986 words

* * *

It is a calm, peaceful spring night in Domino City. Everything the eye can see is bathed in tranquility. Television, lights, and various other electronics are turned off one by one. Parents tuck their young ones into bed for the night and then retreat to the refuge of sleep themselves, for the hour is late. 

The streets are silent downtown. Very few lonely strangers drive their cars in the roads or wander from store to store doing last minute shopping. In fact, very few shops are even open right now, for the hour is late.

In the park, sturdy trees lift their branches towards the full moon that hangs in the blue-black vastness of space. Flowers close their blossoms, waiting for the sun's revitalizing rays to once more supply them with the energy they need to survive. Among the wild animals that consider the park and its surroundings home, only the night denizens, the bat, skunk, raccoon, and others like them, stir. The rest are curled safely in their dens, nests, burrows, and other hideaways, for the hour is late.

Even at the Kaiba mansion, the beautiful white house that is damned by so many in the city, the usual bustle has calmed down. A skeletal force of nighttime sentinels patrol the grounds, assuring that its inhabitants are safe from any ill-wishers. For the most part, however, the Kaiba mansion is much like the rest of the city. Sleepy maids and tired guards lay themselves down to rest for the night, and prepare to face a new day on the morrow, for the hour is late.

The clock reads eleven in the main office of the Kaiba mansion. Here, there is a single being, perhaps the only one in the entire city, who is not contemplating sleep with wistful anticipation. A young man, really no more than a boy of sixteen or seventeen years old, sits behind the single desk, his eyes glued to the quietly beeping laptop in front of him. The hour may be late, but Seto Kaiba's work is never done.

He smirks in satisfaction as he puts the finishing touches on the document he has been working on, a proposal to a small company that went into great detail on how beneficial it would be for them to merge with Kaiba Corporation, the company that the teenager is president of. He saves the file, then opens yet another program, this time the latest project that his company is preparing to release to the public: a virtual reality game unlike any that has ever been created before. He is quite proud of the way it is coming along, though he will never say so aloud, for fear that his employees will slack off.

He glances absently at the clock as he prepares to immerse himself once more in his work. It catches his attention, however, and he quickly focuses on it, surprised. He hadn't known it was that late. His little brother should have been in bed an hour ago.

"Mokuba," he calls without looking up. The boy had crept into his office earlier that evening, carrying a book, a blanket, a mug of cocoa for himself, and a cup of coffee for his older brother. He had delivered that cup to the busy CEO and had taken the rest of his things and curled up on the couch on the other side of the room, detirmined to share time with his only family in any way possible.

"Mokuba, bed time," Seto adds, expecting to hear a cheerful, if a little sleepy-sounding voice chirp out a goodnight and head to his room to join the rest of the citizens of Domino in a quest for slumber.

A few minutes of silence go by before the CEO snaps his attention back to his brother. Mokuba wasn't _ignoring_ him, was he?

"Mokuba?" He finally raises his eyes from the screen, honing in on the couch and the boy that sits in it.

His expression softens almost immediately, and a tiny smile graces his lips, a surprising thing for Seto Kaiba. He is not one to easily smile.

Mokuba lies sprawled on the couch, half-covered in the blanket, his raven hair messily framing his face. His mug sits, empty, on a coaster on the table in front of him. His book is still clasped in one hand, which hangs over the side of the couch, his thumb marking his place. He is sound asleep.

Seto walks noiselessly over to the sofa. Bending down, he gently pries the book from the boy's fingers, marking his place with the bookmark that had been placed on the table next to the empty cocoa mug. He places his brother's hand on his chest, then straightens the blanket. That done, he tenderly picks the small boy up, being careful not to wake him.

"Come on, kid," he murmurs. "Let's get you to bed."

He carries the raven-haired child through the mansion tothe boy'sbedroom. When he reaches it, he awkwardly turns the knob with his elbow and nudges the door open with his foot, trying to hold his brother steady throughout it all.

Once he successfully completes this task, he walks over to the bed and lays his small brother down there, thankful that he had changed into his pajamas already, and tucks him in much like a mother would her child.

Mokuba snuggles deeper into the warm blankets, mumbling something incoherent. Seto strokes the untidy bangs for a minute, then kisses the boy on his forehead. "Goodnight, little brother."

He turns towards the door, and barely catches the soft sigh. "Good night, Seto…"

When he looks back, Mokuba has once again slipped into slumber.

He smiles again and leaves the room. "Not really a bad idea, kid," he whispers as he shuts the door softly behind him. "Maybe I'll get some shuteye, too."

The hour, after all, is late.


	7. Reflection

Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Just thought I'd remind you all: Seto and Mokuba are _brothers_, so get your minds out of the gutter. Incest makes me nauseous…

* * *

**Title:** Reflection**  
Teaser:** Mokuba is having an argument with someone.  
**Rating: **K**Length:** 297 words

* * *

The raven-haired boy glared at the figure in front of him. "Don't talk about Seto like that," he growled. 

"Why not?" inquired his companion. "You know it's true."

"It's not!"

The other boy frowned and huffed. "Don't lie to yourself. He's stone cold, and you know it. When was the last time you even saw him _smile_?"

Mokuba fingered the locket around his neck, the memory of the last time his brother had given him a real smile surfacing. "It's not his fault," he whispered. "It's Gozaburo that did this to him."

"But if he was really as strong as he pretends to be, wouldn't he have been able to keep it from happening?" the other pressed.

"I…"

"Come on! Think about it! He's cut himself off from the rest of the world, from _you_, his own brother! He insults everyone he sees, he–"

"He doesn't insult me," Mokuba protested.

"Yeah, so? You're about the only one. And even to you, he's always so bitter! It's like he doesn't know how to say anything that's not sarcastic or cynical!"

"Yes he does."

"And that would be… what?" The boy facing him rolled his eyes.

"He means it when he says, 'I love you, little brother.'"

The boy rolled his eyes again. "And how often does he say that?"

"…Enough."

"Really, I don't understand it! You're always sticking up for him, always trying to show people that he's not a coldhearted jerk, when deep down you know that he is! Why?"

Mokuba looked in the figure's eyes, his answer coming without hesitation. "Because I love him, too."

The answer was simple, but it held more meaning and hidden truth than any elaborate response could.

Mokuba smiled, and his reflection smiled back at him. They were both satisfied.


	8. A Little Something

Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_. I _do_ own all of these drabbles, and all of the other fanfictions that I have written and will come to write in the future. Steal them, and I will be forced to commit some act of violence upon you, probably involving your soul and the Shadow Realm.

A/N: Just thought I'd leave y'all a friendly reminder that Seto and Mokuba are _brothers_, and all of these drabbles are intended to show their relationship as such. Remember, folks, incest is bad for the gene pool.

Oh, yes, and I'm going to put some shameless advertising up here. If you have a LiveJournal account, I think you might be interested (seeing as you obviously love Seto and Mokuba or you wouldn't be reading this!) in The Locket Keepers (username kaibabros), a community that I recently started devoted our favorite pair of brothers. This website of course cuts out urls, but there's a link from my profile if you would liketo take a look!

* * *

**Title:** A Little Something  
**Teaser:** It's almost funny how a small act of kindness can make your day seem so much better, isn't it?  
**Rating:** K+  
**Length:** 335 words

* * *

Seto Kaiba stormed into his mansion, slamming the door behind him. His day had been atrocious; school had been particularly tedious, and the incompetents that he was forced to work with at Kaiba Corporation had for some reason been more idiotic than usual. To top it all off, he had had to suffer through an hour and a half long meeting filled with loud-mouthed businessman whose only desire was to usurp his position as president of the company. 

Unable to stand one more minute of headache-inducing torment, he had left work early, retreating to the sanctuary of peace and quiet that his home offered.

He swept up the main staircase, preferring the slight exercise that it provided to the elevator. Reaching the top, he hesitated and cast an unenthusiastic look down the hall to his office. He still had work that he needed to do, but he could summon up no energy to do so.

Sighing, he set his briefcase down so he could massage his temples. He had a splitting headache, no thanks to the shouting infidels at work. He closed his eyes tiredly, his fingers moving on to rub his eyelids and cheeks, trying to wake himself up. He couldn't understand why he was so tired; perhaps frustration did that to a person.

Soft footsteps approached him, so quiet that he didn't notice the person they belonged to until he spoke. "Seto?"

"Mokuba," he greeted his younger brother.

"You're home early." He could practically _hear_ the smile in the boy's voice.

"…Yeah."

Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms encircle him. He opened his eyes and looked down at his raven-haired brother. "What's this for?"

Mokuba looked up at him, smiling the innocent smile that Seto loved so much. "I don't know. You just looked like you could use some cheering up."

Seto smiled, his mood brightening as he returned the boy's embrace. Suddenly, ignorant teachers and obnoxious businessmen seemed far away. Even his headache had lessened. "Thanks, little brother."

"Any time, Seto."


	9. Masterpiece

Disclaimer: If I owned it, trust me, I wouldn't waste my time with _fan_fiction. I'd just make it cannon.

A/N: Dedicated to Sangha, who made two _very_ impressive banners for The Locket Keepers LJ community. (beams at Sangha) Thanks so much for sharing those with us!

* * *

**Title:** Masterpiece  
**Teaser:** Seto's going away, and Mokuba wants to give him something special to keep with him until he returns.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 950 words

* * *

"Mokuba! Mokuba? Oh, there you are." Seto Kaiba poked his nose into the kitchen, where Mokuba was standing on a chair, trying to reach the cookie jar that rested on top of the refrigerator. He looked guiltily at his older brother as the tall boy raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Er… Hi, Seto."

"What are you doing?"

"Um… Nothing?"

"I had that cookie jar put there for a reason, little brother."

"Heheheh…"

"Get down. _Now_." The young CEO's tone left no room for argument.

Mokuba hopped down with a muttered apology. "You wanted me for something?" he asked, remembering that the older boy had been looking for him.

"Yes." Seto's eyes were narrowed; he was clearly unhappy at what he had caught the raven-haired boy doing.

"What's up?" Mokuba asked, trying to change the topic.

Seto sighed, apparently deciding to let it go. "I need to go to Germany."

Mokuba raised his eyebrows. Germany was a long way away. "Why?"

"You know how we've been negotiating with a gaming company there that wants to start distributing our products?"

"Yeah." As vice president, he had been present at many of the meetings with the CEO of the company Seto was talking about. "What about it?"

"I need to go there to finalize the transaction. It would look terrible if we started doing business with them when I haven't even seen their facilities."

Mokuba nodded. He was familiar with this policy. "And… let me guess… I can't come?"

Seto sighed again. "You know I'd bring you along if I could. But it's the middle of the school year. I'll be gone for three weeks; you can't miss that much school."

This time, it was Mokuba who sighed. "I know. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. I'll be gone before you get up." Seeing the boy's dejected expression, he added, "…I'm sorry."

"S'okay. Just be sure to say goodbye tonight, since you won't get to when you leave."

Seto gave him a small smile. "I will."

* * *

Mokuba lay sprawled on the floor in his room, his attention focused on the piece of cardboard in front of him – or rather, on the sheet of paper that lay on the cardboard. The cardboard itself only served to keep his pencil from punching through to the soft carpet beneath. 

He moved his pencil over the paper, carefully adding another line to the drawing that he had spent the past few hours working on. He had rushed through his homework so that he would have enough time to finish it, and now he was almost done. He sketched in another line, then frowned, erased it, and added another, better stroke. It had to be perfect; anything less would be unacceptable.

Finally, he smirked. The outline was done. Now all he needed was to add color. He reached for a blue colored pencil, and began to very faintly shade the image that was now rearing out at him.

He had to hurriedly hide his masterpiece when Seto came to bid him good night and good-bye, as promised. Mokuba gave his brother a hug and went back to work as soon as the door had closed.

When at last he put away his pencils and held the drawing up to the light, satisfaction was etched in his every feature. Blinking sleepily – it was way past his bedtime – he crept out of his bedroom and snuck down to the kitchen. He left the illustration at Seto's place at the table, where he would find it in the morning. Then, yawning, he trudged back up to his bedroom and collapsed in his bed, falling into a deep sleep as dragons flew in his dreams.

* * *

Seto shrugged his trench coat on and grabbed his laptop and briefcase before quietly slipping out of his room and creeping past Mokuba's bedroom. He didn't want to wake the little boy up, but he had to hurry, or he would miss his flight. 

One of his goons came up to him as he reached the ground floor, taking his laptop and briefcase from him to be put safely in the limousine. The rest of the things he was bringing were already there.

Seto trotted into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of orange juice when he made it there. He didn't have time to cook himself breakfast, so he took a muffin from a basket on the table. He drained the juice and began to eat the muffin, hurrying towards the door as he did so.

He almost missed the paper that lay invitingly at his place, but something caused his head to turn back just before he left the room. Seeing it waiting for him, his curiosity overcame him, and he walked over to the table, picking it up. He smiled when he saw what it was.

A beautiful Blue-Eyes White Dragon spread its wings in flight, soaring through the clouds. Scrawled across the top in his brother's not-quite-elegant handwriting was, "Have a good time in Germany, Nii-sama!"

"Mr. Kaiba? Sir, we need to go!" one of the goons called to him from the doorway.

"I'm coming," he growled, and hurried after the man.

When he sat on the leather seats, safely on his way to the airport, he looked once more at the graceful dragon. He picked up his briefcase from the floor and carefully placed the drawing inside. Nothing would mangle his precious brother's masterpiece. Not while he had anything to say about it.

He glanced back at the Kaiba mansion, growing smaller as they drove away. He thought he could just make out a small face watching him from out Mokuba's bedroom window.

"Good-bye, Mokuba," he murmured. "See you in three weeks."


	10. Penalty Game

Disclaimer: It's not mine. I'm depressed enough as it is right now, what with my internet connection being down (only, it's obviously fixed now if you're reading this, yay!) and the whole idea for this drabble… Don't rub it in. (scowl)

A/N: Warning: This is… depressing. And mildly disturbing. But it wouldn't leave me alone. I promise to get something happier out soon!

Oh, btw, it's talking about Death T. I have not, repeat, have not read the manga, and the only way I know about this is through scattered bits and pieces I've picked up on the net. So there may be mistakes here; if there are, let me know and I'll fix them (and credit you!).

For anyone who had not read the manga and has no idea what I'm talking about: Death T was a game that Kaiba cooked up to get revenge on Yugi for defeating him. The dangers were very, very real, from penalty games meant to drive a grown man insane to a murderer loose in the building. Not going into much detail (as I don't _know_ much detail), Mokuba, in an attempt to impress Seto (who was still evil from Gozaburo) challenged Yugi to a game. The loser had to go through the aforementioned penalty game. Moki lost… and Seto personally pushed the button that started the penalty. If Yami hadn't rescued him, he would likely be a slobbering lump in a chair now. Later, Yami crushed Seto's heart, leaving him to put it back together – without the evil part.

My (scary) question? Well… Read.

* * *

**Title:** Penalty Game  
**Teaser:** What would have happened if Yami hadn't stopped the penalty game?  
**Rating:** K+  
**Length:** 353 words

* * *

Seto Kaiba looked sadly down at the little boy in the chair in front of him. A lump formed in his throat as he crouched down to the child's level, staring into the unseeing eyes. 

"Hey, little guy," he murmured. "How are you doing today?"

There was no answer, of course. There was never any answer. There would never be any answer ever again.

He reached forward, taking the small, pale hand in his own large, only slightly darker one. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the child's fingers, trying to get some kind of response, even though he knew how hopeless the gesture was. There was never a response, any more than there was an answer.

He sighed, reaching his other hand forward to stroke the dark bangs out of the boy's eyes. He needed a haircut. Seto gave a small, humorless smile. He _always_ needed a haircut.

How had he allowed this to happen? Gozaburo really had succeeded in turning him into a monster, hadn't he? Why had he let a _child_ participate in that damn tournament? Why had he held the tournament in the first place? Why had it taken _Yugi_ to finally make him see?

And why, oh why, had _his brother_ been the one to suffer like this?

He gently laid the hand he held back in the boy's lap. He embraced the still figure, as usual receiving no reply.

"Mokuba…" he whispered. "I'm sorry…"

Slowly, he stood, turning away from the sad form that had once held so much life. He would return. He would always return.

He didn't look back as he shut the door softly behind him. If he had, he would have seen a single tear trickle down the child's face. Though no one would ever know it, deep inside the shell that was now Mokuba Kaiba, a small glimmer of light remained. It would never reach the surface. It always tried, and it never could. But that tiny glimmer, among all the darkness that Death T had created, heard his beloved brother's words.

_Seto_..._ I forgive you._

And he always would.


	11. Fevered Dreams

Disclaimer: I'm running out of creative ideas for these. Let us merely say for now that I do not own _Yu Gi Oh!_, and I will think of a more interesting way to proclaim this in the future.

A/N: As promised, something a tad more cheerful!

* * *

**Title:** Fevered Dreams  
**Teaser:** Caught in fevered dreams, nothing seems to make sense… Only one thing can help him now…  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 372 words

* * *

A low moan was heard from the small form huddled on the bed. The child tossed and turned, his eyes closed in delusional dreams. Sweat dotted his forehead even as he shivered with a cold that no blanket could chase away. 

A strong arm wrapped about him, holding him close. He struggled, not discerning its owner from the terrors that chased him in his imagination.

The arm tightened its grip, and he cried out in fear. He couldn't escape, he couldn't get free, he couldn't…

"Mokuba," a voice called to him, sounding very far away. He froze, listening.

It came again, reassuring him with its calming tones. "Shh… It's okay, Mokuba. Relax… You need to hold still, kid. You need to take your medicine."

He relaxed, no longer afraid. A small smile graced his lips and he sighed tiredly. "Seto…"

He didn't remember someone opening his mouth and gently feeding him the medication that would chase away the disease that held his body trapped in its grasp. He was only aware of the strong presence beside him, holding him close and fighting off the terrors of his fevered dreams.

* * *

Mokuba Kaiba stirred, groaning slightly as he opened his eyes. He blinked in the strong light of the hospital room. 

_Hospital room? What happened?_ He had only vague, distorted memories of the past few days; certainly nothing substantial to go by. He could recall only one thing with any certainty: a strong, commanding figure at his side, with him throughout it all.

"Seto," he whispered. He turned his head tiredly, smiling at the sight that greeted him. His brother was asleep in a chair at his bedside, his head resting on his chest.

Almost as if he had been cued, the lanky teenager's ice blue eyes snapped open. He sat up, automatically looking over at his young brother. He smiled when he saw that the gray eyes were open.

"Hey," he murmured. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah… What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember feeling cruddy." He grinned.

"You were pretty sick for a while there, kid."

"You were there the whole time?"

"You remember that?"

"'Bout the only thing I do remember."

"…Yeah, I was here."

"Thanks, Seto."

"What are big brothers for?"


	12. Cold Stone

Disclaimer: I do not own _Yu Gi Oh!_.

A/N: Phoo to the creators, who never gave poor Seto and Mokuba a surname before they were adopted. (sticks out tongue) Very inconvenient of them. So, I get to be creative, don't I?

The word I chose is one of the many that mean "peace" or "tranquility." ...At least according to an online dictionary. Don't speak Japanese, myself. Seto's life was peaceful, before his parents died. And his own name means turmoil, right? Tranquil Turmoil. Yay for irony.

* * *

**Title: **Cold Stone  
**Teaser:** A final farewell brings a little more than young Seto expected…  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 306 words

* * *

He stared at the cold stone in front of him, blinking away the rain that fell down on his face and trickled into his eyes. It wasn't fair. It was never fair. He supposed he'd have to resign himself to that fact. 

Seto Yasuragi raised his head, observing the graveyard with a solemn gaze. The funeral had been small, almost embarrassingly so. No one had cared much about his father. No one cared about him now, either.

He looked over at his aunt and uncle. They had promised to take him in, supposedly out of the goodness of their hearts. He knew better. They wanted his inheritance. Nothing more. He could see greed in their eyes, and could detect no sorrow in their voices when they spoke of his late father and mother.

He felt something – some_one_ – tug on his pant leg. He glanced down, his expression softening. He took back his earlier thought; _someone_ still cared.

"Big bwudder?"

"Hey kid," he whispered.

Wide gray eyes stared up at him out of a pale face lined by raven-hair, and the child wrapped his arms about his older brother's leg, burying his face against the older boy's clothing.

"'M scared…"

"Scared? Why?"

The boy shot a terrified look at their aunt and uncle. "Scarwy…" he whimpered.

Seto looked at them as well. He could see why they frightened his small brother.

He knelt down next to the child, not caring that the wet grass seeped through the knee of his suit. He wrapped his arm about the small boy, holding him close. "Moki… You don't need to be afraid. I'll take care of you."

Slowly, Mokuba lifted his eyes. "Pwomise?" he asked.

"Yes," was the whispered reply. His voice, though quiet, held the determination and responsibility of someone ten times his eight years of age. "I promise."


	13. Once in a Blue Moon

Disclaimer: Is not mine.

A/N: I decided to write this from someone different's POV. Roland is of course one of the minor characters on the show, and Carlson is my all-purpose goon. You'll see him show up all over the place in my work. I likes him.

Woops! Thanks to Amarie Miriel for pointing out that I never explained the title! Preq, you guessed correctly, but I didn't translate for anyone else. Sorry, mates. _Frater Draco_ means, quite literally, _Brother Dragon_. Because he is. (grin)

* * *

**Title:** Once in a Blue Moon  
**Teaser:** Seto's current behavior is rather shocking to one of his seasoned employees.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length:** 107 words

* * *

"Carlson?" 

"Yes, Roland?"

"Do you know where Mr. Kaiba is?"

"He's outside with Master Mokuba."

"…Out_side_?"

"He _is_ allowed to go in his own backyard, y' know."

"Well, _yes_, but…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…What are they _doing_?"

"That would be a snowball fight, Roland."

"_Mr. Kaiba_? A _snowball fight_?"

"Yup."

"In other words… The CEO of Kaiba Corp. is…"

"Playin' in the snow with his little brother."

"…Oh."

"You oughta come home once in a while, 'stead of workin' all the time. You might see things like that more often."

"…Just how often _does_ it happen?"

"Once in a blue moon, Roland. Once in a blue moon."


	14. Sensei

A/N: This is dedicated to my own _nii-chan_, for teaching me and being someone I can trust and depend on. I could say more, but honestly, I wouldn't know where to begin. No words can properly tell how grateful I am.

My _otou-san_ deserves on honorable mention, too. He's testing for his fifth _dan_ in _Tae_ _Kwon Do_ this December; he'll be a master if he passes!

I myself am not a martial artist, though both my _nii-chan_ and _otou-san_ are. I would, however, like to look into _Aikido_ (see below).

I had fun with this, throwing in Japanese words where they fit. Those words are in italics. Translations are at the bottom.

* * *

**Title: **_Sensei  
_**Teaser: **He watches and learns, and hopes that someday he might be able to do by himself.  
**Length: **482 words  
**Rating: **K+

* * *

It's like a dance. 

The tall figure moves fluidly, spinning, striking, toying with his imaginary opponents. To the untrained eye, his movements appear wild, like a storm at sea. In reality, he is in complete control of his body, strong muscles working together with bone and tendon, all controlled like a machine by the brilliant mind housed inside, directing his actions calmly, like the eye of that storm.

The figure pauses in his battle-dance, poising like a rearing dragon, before descending, catlike, on his unseen prey.

The smaller figure sits perched atop a stack of unused mats, absently kicking his legs against its yielding surface. His gray orbs, shielded by a tousle of black hair, are fixed upon the other's struggle, carefully noting the mental battle as well as the physical one. This is good for his _nii-sama_; control of his body allows him to, for a short amount of time, free his mind.

His _nii-sama_ needs more times like this.

He watches in awe as the warrior, clad in his preferred black tunic and pants instead of a typical white _gi_, redirects an imaginary foe's strike at his head, then draws a _tegatana_ from his belt and intercepts another dream's attempt to slide a blade between his ribs. The small child smiles, hugging his _nii-sama_'s trench coat to himself as the dance continues for an unknown length of time. He can't help but wish that he could join the older. If he knew what his _nii-sama_ knew, then perhaps he wouldn't be so helpless; he knows a time will come when he will have to fight his own battles.

All too soon, the training session is over. The tall figure bows to the _shomen_ and joins the child at the side of the private _dojo_, accepting the offered coat and shrugging it on.

He nods at the younger's compliments and smiles slightly at the enthusiasm behind the shining gray eyes. He hesitates, then speaks softly to the boy. The child's eyes seem to glow with excitement at his words, wanting to begin right away. The older shakes his head softly; there is work to be done. Lessons can begin on the morrow.

The boy's faces falls, then automatically brightens at the prospect of finally fighting at his _nii-sama_'s side. He gives the older boy a delighted embrace and races out of the room, laughing his joy.

The older watches him, wondering what the child had been so anxious about, for he had seen the desperation in the young face. He shakes his head again. There is no need for his brother to fight his battles alone, not like he himself had done. They will always fight together. He will always be there to help his brother stay on his path, and he will always be there to help fight whatever troubles await at the crossroads.

Because that's what big brothers do.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Aikido_: A Japanese martial art that believes that the circle is the basic motion, not a straight line like some other art forms. _Ai_ usually means "harmony," "love," or "union." _Ki _is loosely translated as "power" or "energy." _Do_ is derived from the Chinese _tao_, which means "way" or "path." Put it all together and you might say that Aikido is "a way of harmonious power." It is a defensive art which uses an attacker's strength and motion to protect both the attacked and the attacker. It is something that I could definitely see Seto Kaiba doing, for three reasons. One, with the kill-or-be-killed frame of mind in the business world, I imagine he could find comfort (when he has the time to actually train – he needs to get out of his office sometimes!) in practicing something less harsh. It would give him a much needed break. Two, I don't think he likes killing, or at least present-day Kaiba doesn't. He's seen too much, I think. Besides, there's advantage to not harming someone who's attacking you. You can't find out who paid them to kill you if they're dead. And there's less trouble with the law, which, though he could pay any bail they set, is less of a headache for him. Three, the few martial arts moves we see him use in the anime are taken straight from Aikido. Not only that, but he seems to know what he's doing. Perhaps he hasn't reached _dan_ yet, because I doubt he would have time to train often, but _I_ certainly wouldn't want to spar with him!

_dan_ – a black belt (lesser belts are called _kyu­_)

_dojo _– a place for training

_gi_ – Aikedo uniform

_nii-chan_ – an affectionate way of saying "big brother"(few children in Japan actually refer to their older siblings by their name, much like we call wouldn't call our parents by _their_ names)

_nii-sama_ – a more respectful way of saying "big brother," what Mokuba calls Seto in the Japanese version

_otou-san_ – an affectionate way of saying "father," much like the English "daddy"

_Tae Kwon Do_ – a Korean martial art

_sensei _– teacher

_shomen _– the part of the _dojo_ where martial artists actually train

_tegatana_ – a hand blade (like a dagger)


	15. Insomnia

A/N: Just your friendly reminder from your local Kaiba-fangirl that incest is bad for the gene pool, and these li'l stories are meant to be incest-free, you sickos.

Because it doesn't seem fair to give Mokuba all the nightmares:

* * *

**Title: **Insomnia  
**Teaser: **They chased him in his dreams, and it seemed he could never escape…  
**Rating: **T  
**Length: **683 words

* * *

He looked about him, his eyes narrowing and his heart thumping in his chest. It was completely dark, and even though he could feel solid ground beneath his feet, his couldn't see it.

He took a deep breath. It was like this whenever he tried to sleep. His brother couldn't understand.

'Go to sleep, Nii-sama. You've been working to hard; Kaiba Corp. isn't going to get taken over if you sleep for a few hours.'

How many times had he heard that? Mokuba was right, he knew. The boy only said it because he thought it was for the best. He knew that, too.

That didn't keep his nightmares at bay.

'Nii-sama, insomnia isn't healthy. You're going to make yourself sick if you're not careful; what's gonna happen then?'

'_Going to_, Mokuba, not _gonna_,' was all he ever answered, and a heavy sigh was all he ever received.

A sound reached him through the darkness now. He flinched, ashamed at this reaction yet unable to stop it. He began to run through the shadows, first a jog, then faster, and finally an all out sprint.

They would catch him anyway. It was inevitable; they always did. But he was never one to go down with a fight.

'Why do you work so hard, Nii-sama? We should take a vacation; you've earned it, you know. No one would complain if you took a week off.' But then he wouldn't have work to distract him from...

The sound was identifiable now: footsteps. They were gaining on him... Gaining...

His breath came in great gasps now, and his heart beat wildly against his ribcage, demanding more and more oxygen. For a fleeting moment, he thought that this time, for once, he might make it...

And then all of a sudden, he saw something ahead of him, as he always did. A dim shape, lying on the ground...

He ordered his feet to stop, but his body, always so controlled and responsive when he was awake, seemed clumsy in this world of his subconscious' making. He tripped over the whatever-it-was, falling hard on his arms. Pain shot through him – were you supposed to feel pain in a dream? – and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sight he knew he would be forced to see.

The footsteps came closer, slowly, yet somehow faster than he had ever moved, and suddenly there was laughter, an insane cackle that chilled him to his dream-bones. He opened his eyes.

He could never identify the figure that now stood towering over him. Sometimes he would swear it looked like Gozaburo; at others, it would bear greater resemblance to Pegasus. Now it was Noa; now one of the Big Five; now a faceless individual whose life Kaiba Corporation had destroyed like thousands of others...

He tore his eyes away, but there was only one other thing to look at in this place devoid of all warmth and light...

And there, lying on the ground as if his body had been tossed aside like so much garbage, bloodied, pale, cold and lifeless, was the only sun that he had ever been able to see.

It was too much, seeing the once-shiny raven hair now dulled and the open, staring eyes empty of the inner joy that kept him alive. He screamed, recoiling, clapping his hands over his ears, but he could still hear the laughter, and the corpse remained fixed in his eyes long after he forced them closed.

"Nii-sama! Nii-sama!" Now that voice, that cherished voice, called out to him through the darkness, piercing through the laughter, driving away his fears. "Wake up, Nii-sama!"

His eyes snapped open.

And there was the sun's face, bright eyes, shiny hair and all. "Are you okay, Nii-sama?"

His heart rate slowed; his breath stopped coming in gasps and slowed to the regular, steady motions of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. "Yes, Mokuba. I'm fine."

Small, slightly bony arms wrapped around him, chasing the dream further and further away. "It's okay, Nii-sama. It was just a nightmare."

"I know, Mokuba." He would never let it become otherwise.


	16. Prince of All the Castle

A/N: Because stories about young Kaibas are cute.

* * *

**Title:** Prince of All the Castle  
**Teaser: **He was the prince of all the castle, and no one but the king could make him abandon his post.  
**Rating: **K  
**Length: **639 words

* * *

The young prince stood on the battlements and surveyed his lands. The castle was firm beneath his feet, its many pennants waving in the gentle breeze. Civilians worked serenely in the peace of the city below. He had toiled long to secure the safety of his people and his kingdom, and they trusted him to continue to protect them. 

He suddenly stiffened. What was that? There, in the distance? Riding up across the plain? Was it the enemy?

No, it wasn't. Almost as swiftly, he relaxed. He recognized the traveler as an ally.

"Moki? Mookiiii? Where are you? It's late, you need to go to bed! Mok–! ...Oh, here you are."

His ally now stood before him, a gentle smile on his face. "What are you doing?"

He replied with all the grace a person of his status was required to give to people as important as his ally. "Watchin'."

"Watching? Watching what?"

"Fer bad guys."

"Ohh, okay. I'm not a bad guy, am I?"

"No!"

The smile grew. "Well, that's good to hear." An appreciative eye swept across his castle. "Did you build this all by yourself?"

The prince nodded proudly. "Yup."

"Wow, Moki. That's really good."

The prince beamed, pleased with the compliment.

The ally now gestured at the people below the battlements, curiosity in his gaze. "What are they?"

Astounded that he would need to point out such an obvious detail, the prince gave a most un-royal snort. "People!"

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry."

His royal pardon was given.

"Are you the king, Moki?"

"Nuh-uh. _Pwince_. Too li'l to be king."

"Makes sense. Who's the king, then, Your Highness?"

Another snort. The answer was obvious.

"_I'm_ the king?"

"'Course!"

"Wow. That's a lot to take in all at once."

The prince grinned, clapping his hands happily and stretching his arms out. The king obliged him, picking him up and holding him in a protective embrace.

"Is Your Highness tired?"

The prince shook his head, a yawn betraying the action as he snuggled closer to the king.

The king spoke again, his voice amused. "I think you are."

The prince mumbled.

"What?"

"Nuh-uh." Another yawn. "Can' leave 'em unpwolected."

The king nodded gravely, understanding. "Of course. You're right; we can't leave the battlements unprotected." He looked around, shifting his grip on his tiny burden so that he could bend down a pick up a small blue elephant from among the assorted crowd of stuffed animals arrayed at the castle's base. "Do you think the Captain of Your Highness' Guard will be able keep your people safe while we're away?"

A sleepy nod.

The king gently placed the elephant on the tower where his young brother had been standing before, careful not to knock over the wooden blocks that made up the castle's walls. He stepped carefully back from the child's creation, pausing only to get a better grip on the boy before quietly leaving the room.

The prince shifted in his arms. "Where we goin'?"

"On a quest, Moki. On a quest."

"Oh. Okay."

A contented pause.

"Where to?"

"The royal bedchambers, of course, Your Highness."

They had reached the dormitory door now. The king opened it quietly, careful not to wake any of the other boys up. Curse this blasted orphanage; they'd be out of there soon enough.

He hoped.

He settled the prince down on the nearest available bed, tucking the blankets around the little boy. Before he could slip away to his own bed, however, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Seto?"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Tella storwy?"

"A story?"

"Pwease?"

"Well... Okay. Once upon a time, there was a young prince named Mokuba. Prince Moki was the bravest and the strongest in all the land, and..."

The prince smiled, nestling closer to his brother as sweet dreams came to claim him.


	17. Marshmallow Peeps

A/N: Seto's a tad OOC here, but you can forgive me that. It's Easter, after all.

* * *

**Title: **Marshmallow Peeps  
**Summary: **Boom.  
**Rating:** K  
**Length: **391 words

* * *

"Mokuba, what are you doing?" 

The twelve-year-old boy jerked, quickly hiding his hands behind his back. He opened his eyes innocently at his older brother. "Nothing..."

"What are you hiding behind your back?" Seto Kaiba's eyes were narrowed, his lips set in a slight frown. The boy was up to something, and they both knew it. "More importantly, what's in the microwave?"

"Um..." Mokuba shuffled his feet nervously. His eyes flicked to the microwave oven, which was indeed running – and had been for some time – before glancing back at the older boy. "Er..."

Suddenly, a soft popping sound came from inside the microwave. Mokuba jumped, and Seto glanced at it sharply. Slowly, he smirked, leaning against the kitchen doorway and raising one eyebrow at his little brother. "You discovered where Roland hid the Easter candy, didn't you?" The Kaiba household didn't usually partake in holiday festivities, as neither brother was particularly religious, but Mokuba had somehow managed to convince the young CEO that not having a chocolate rabbit or a box of peeps at Easter time was a crime, and Seto had reluctantly given in. He should have known it would cause trouble.

Mokuba blushed and looking down at his feet. Wincing, he brought his hands out from behind his back, showing the box of marshmallow peeps to the other boy. Sure enough, one of the little birds was missing from the box.

Seto wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused. He settled for amused, strolling into the room and removing the candy from his brother's care. "Okay... Who told you that they explode in the microwave?"

Mokuba gave him a sheepish smile. "One of the kids at school." Hurriedly, he added, "But he just said it would get bigger, not that it would _explode_!"

"You'd have tried it anyway."

Mokuba didn't bother arguing.

Seto opened the microwave, revealing the inside to be covered with sticky marshmallow. "I hope you're planning on cleaning that up."

Mokuba opened his mouth, closed it again, and sighed. "Yeah, of course."

"Of course," Seto repeated. He watched the boy scurry around the kitchen, grabbing the necessary items. He shook his head as his brother set to work, allowing himself to chuckle quietly. Covertly, he pulled a peep from the box and popped it into his mouth.

Maybe there was something to this holiday idea.

* * *

A/N: Happy Easter, everybody! (And yes: peeps really will explode if you microwave them. XD) 


	18. Baby Blue Eyes

A/N: Yeah, I'm so not active in the YGO fandom right now. I'm marking this drabble series as "complete," but I might still spit out the occasional ficlet to add to it. Just for nostalgia's sake.

For this one, I just had this mental image in my head of Seto having _no idea what to do_ with a baby. It turned into a pseudo-stream-of-consciousness-thing. And kinda adorable, if I do say so myself.

* * *

**Title: **Baby Blue Eyes  
**Teaser:** There's more than just Mokuba to protect now.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Length:** 795

* * *

Seto never married.

There had been the Corporation to see to, and Mokuba to care for, and dueling, of course, and somehow he'd never found the time to seek out anything like a girlfriend. It would have taken an extraordinary person to interest him in romance in the first place, and frankly, everything else had been much more important at the time.

Mokuba was different. Mokuba was all that was good and right in the world. He was sunshine and optimism, all bundled up in a neat little package with wild black hair that somehow still managed to share Seto's ruthless business sense. Mokuba could be cunning and manipulative as the scene required, but his inherent charisma was what gave him a true advantage in the business world. Seto had bled, sweat, and threatened his way to the top; Mokuba simply smiled and doors opened for him.

And, of course, he was Seto's baby brother. Which made him much more valuable than any corporate asset, and if his teenage years had been devoted more to womanizing than to terrorizing businessmen, it seemed only fair to grant him that, after everything Seto had put him through.

There had been strings of them, rows upon rows of women whose faces Seto never bothered to remember, even if he did run a complete background check on each and every one of them. A business trip in America had finally introduced Mokuba to the proverbial fish he couldn't catch, and Seto had been surprised at how a pretty young woman with no business sense of her own had somehow brought his brother's determined streak out from the playboy persona he'd built for himself.

Then there had been the failed attempts at courtship, and quite a few frustrated teenage temper tantrums that Seto had sat through with a mug of hot coffee and a raging headache, because he hadn't _understood_ but a big brother's job was to listen, as he always had and always would.

Failure had turned into progress had turned into dating had turned into wedding bells, and suddenly it's years later and Seto's not quite sure how they ended up here.

There are three small children running around his mansion, and a fourth sits at his feet, dressed in a pink dress and pigtails with her chubby fist shoved into her mouth. She's got her daddy's messy black hair and her mom's freckles, but she's got Seto's eyes.

It makes him dizzy. Somehow, out of all his brother's children, the youngest girl is the only one who inherited the family's telltale blues. The others are all gray like Mokuba or brown like their mom, but this little baby stares back at Seto and it's like looking into a mirror.

Seto sees himself there, in his little niece's face, sees the loss and the pain and the terrible mistakes that _she hasn't made yet_, and if he's got anything to say about it, she never will, because he's already been there for her. This child will never know the pain of abandonment or death, will never have to sell her soul or give up a normal life just to protect someone she loves.

Seto doesn't regret anything he's done (that's a lie, he regrets a dozen things, a hundred, regrets turning his back and losing his way and being defeated by a nobody and letting that consume him and). He doesn't regret who he is, or what he has become, or the people he had to cut down just to drag himself (and Mokuba, and Mokuba's children who hadn't even been born yet) to the comfortable, safe life they have now.

He doesn't regret it. But he's not going to let it happen to anyone else, either.

The door slams open, and Seto (does not) jump, startled out of his thoughts. It's a reflexive motion, something he doesn't realize he's done until it's already happened, but he bends down and scoops that baby off the floor and into his lap, cradles her safe and sound against whatever the disturbance is.

It's just Mokuba, though, his furrowed brow breaking into a smile when he sees them. "Oh! There she is! Did she come in here all by herself?"

He blinks. "Yeah, I must have left the door open. Were you worried?"

"Nah, there's so much security around this place it's not like she could really wander off. It's just so chaotic, once they start walking! But I kinda figured she'd be in here. She really adores you, you know?"

"…Yeah. I noticed." Blue eyes study blue eyes, and a drool-covered hand clutches her uncle's favorite trench coat.

"She's not bothering you, is she? Aren't you supposed to be working now?"

"No, Mokuba, it's fine. She's no trouble at all."


End file.
